Gifts, Blessings and Curses
by Royer James the Third
Summary: For every new beginning there needs to be an ending, nothing worth doing is going to be easy and life is never fair. These are her families creeds. Why would she think that they wouldn't apply to death as well? Jon x OC
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the show or books. Though I do own any original characters I make for this story. This statement holds true for this chapter and any upcoming ones I publish here.

AN: This story is rated M for a reason. There may be triggers in this story that could bother some readers. Please be warned.

If you would like to write recommendations, thoughts or critiques, any and all are welcomed.

Chapter One

 _Death is but a doorway to new life_  
 _We live today_  
 _We shall live again_  
 _In many forms shall we return_

 _-_ John L. Balderston

"Just stay on the path, she said. It's easy to find, she said." Rayen deadpans and blew her auburn locks out of her face and glasses. "I call bullshit."

It had been a few hours and she had thoroughly lost herself in this blasted forest. She knew she doesn't have the best sense of direction but damn it! Seriously, it shouldn't take this long to get to the edge of the forest!

"Okay. Pit stop it is before I lose my temper." She shrugs off her backpack, unclips her water bottle and takes a few sips.

After surveying the glade she found herself in, she sat down on the soft grass next to a large white poplar tree. The sun hadn't yet reached its zenith and she was already exhausted. Surprisingly, the day wasn't hot for summer but she would count her blessings. She didn't need to tack on heat stroke to her current list of problems. Rayen grabbed a granola bar from an outer pocket of the pack and proceeded to munch on it.

Now you might wonder how she got herself in this situation, yes?

Well, Rayen's luck could only be described as sporadic at best. Oh no, it would be to easy for a Yew to have a slow and steady stream of it. Instead it tended to be the hit-and-run variety and last struck a few years ago when she was driving. Boy was she grateful when the huge truck missed her car by inches after it sped through a red light. Subconsciously, she knew that enough time had passed and had recharged her luck to be useful once more.

Here's how the Yew family's infamous luck struck yet again in the most unpredictable fashion by being saved by old granny Chailleach.

—

"What an absolutely rotten day," Rayen sighed as she slid down to a crouch against her locker. It started off all perfect as those picturesque summer days tended to. The bugs buzzing, the birds chirping and the frogs croaking. The weather was clear and a slight breeze brushed against the trees. Overall, it should have been the perfect end to a perfect day.

Sadly, Rayen's days rarely were good, more often than not they were depressing and soul wrenching. She was not only a nurse, which was hard enough, but an ICU speciality on top of it. She and her teammates routinely stood between life and death itself for their patients. Like any job, some days were better than others and they won their battles. They could revive a patient's heart or take the breathing tube out and hear them take their first breath again.

Other days were worse and they tasted bitter defeat. Sometimes a patient came in too late and their organs had started to fail or their heart had been stopped for too long before being revived. That was when the nurses provided comfort to the patient as they passed. It was never easy for her team, trying to be a supportive pillar for the patient and their family during difficult times. Nonetheless, it was a privilege to help as much as they could.

Today happened to be one of the aforementioned heartbreaking days. She received a patient that had already died, brought back twice and lost it again while she had him. The feeling of cracking the old man's ribs as she did CPR and called for help lingered in her mind. The family's wailes echoed in her ears as Rayen coaxed her breathing through repetitive ins and outs to keep herself from breaking down in the employee lounge.

Rayen forced herself up from the floor and mechanically grabbed her work bag and gear. She needed to get outside. Away from this place, away from her memories, just away. She charged her way through the hospital's hallways and sped down the stairs. A swift push against the exit door and she was free.

Rayen breathed the summer air deep into her lungs and let a small smile grace her face. Her Nan had loved these days the most. The beautiful sunsets and fresh air, always the possibility of a evening thunderstorm.

Her name was odd she knew, but she was named after her Nan, her grandmother. Most of her family was Nordic on her Father's side. Her grandmother had been a local healer in the remote hills. Once she became elderly and needed help taking care of herself, Dad convinced her to come Stateside.

Nan had lived with the small family of four and helped look after Rayen and her older brother, Bjorn. During their younger years, Nan tried to teach her grandchildren the craft but Bjorn would rather play with his friends than stay inside and listen to 'old lady talk'. So, Nan taught her granddaughter as much as she could remember without the live examples to grease the old noggin's wheels.

Rayen's childhood became anything but normal after that. Her grandmother would teach her the medicinal arts after her schoolwork was complete. She'd be quizzed on the plants Nan had growing in her garden, listing the benefits and risks of each. As she progressed, Nan continued to provide further intricate teachings about, tinctures, salves and, toward the end, even poisons. Rayen soaked it all up like a sponge, passed Nan's tests with flying colors and, unsurprisingly, became interested in the medical field.

In their whispered conversations, Nan told her how proud she was that her granddaughter following in her footsteps, albeit slightly different. Rayen confessed everything to her: how she wanted to be a nurse, how she dreamed of working with Doctors Without Borders, and helping as much as she could. Nan quickly became secretive after that, hiding away in her room for hours, and always smiled when Rayen asked why. She said it was something she'd understand when she was older.

After years of studying and relentlessly pursuing her dream, Rayen obtained her nursing degree and passed her boards. Her family threw a small graduation party where she received her Nan's presents. Rayen adored the charms that Nan bequeathed to her, but loved the journals she gave to her later that night. They were the one secret Nan had kept from Rayen's whole life. Shortly after that wonderful moment, Nan passed and her room now lacked the wonderful warmth it once had.

Her mother and father had worked tirelessly in their jobs and were finally able to enjoy their life in retirement. Now they traipsed around the world, traveling from one country to the next. Bjorn had moved out of state with his new wife. She never put up with his antics and called him out when he needed it, but supported him in all his ventures. He was doing well in the cyber security sector, which everyone needed in this day and age.

Rayen tried to let out the tension from the day in a large sigh and worked the knots out of her shoulders. She determined that today would be a good day to travel to the neighborhood park. She needed some time with nature to sort out her feelings from her shift. She marched over to the small car and shoved her bag into the back seat. A quick flick of the front door, a buckled seat belt, a twist of her wrist and she was off.

As she drove, her mind wandered from work to the empty house and back. She doesn't really want to go back and house sit. It was lonely to be the only person in a large house since everyone was out of the state. She cues up her phone from the Bluetooth function in her car and texts two of her friends. Maybe they would like to hang out at the town's watering hole tonight for a few drinks. As she approached the park, a large doe darted in front of her little sedan. Startled and scared, Rayen swerved the car's steering wheel and ran into the embankment. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was intense pain in her head and the seat belt tightening on her chest.

—

Rayen felt as if she was drifting, buoyant as if she was in the water. It was safe, sheltering but precarious. The ominous possibility of plunging under if you weren't careful lurked in the background. Her mind was oddly idle, a rare state for her, and her body numb. She had no energy to expend, no monumental care, just the feeling of bone deep tiredness. And so, she let herself drift to and fro in the currents. Eventually, it lulled her idle mind to sleep.

The crackling snap next to her and the soft murmur of voices far away half woke her. It was muffled as if cotton was stuffed in her ears. The the familiar tang of salves, the convoluted mixture of herbs and spices, and earthiness of smoke waifed in the air. She could feel the warmth of a soft flame, scratchy sticks prodding her back, and the tightness of her skin.

Rayen curled her fingers and the joints felt stiff from disuse and dehydration. She gathered up her strength and pushed it to her core, levering up her torso from the rough cloth underneath. Eyes open to see where she was but quickly snapped shut when the bright light stung them. Rayen cradled her head in her hands and let out a weak moan. She felt like she had the worse hangover. From the splitting headache, to the joint stiffness and a mouth as dry as the desert.

Rayen hadn't felt like this since the one horrible experience with alcohol in college. She caved in when her friends and roommate urged her to try a few drinks. She knew she would be a lightweight, as she rarely ever drank, but not that much of one. She paid for the oversight the next morning by praising the porcelain throne. She vowed to herself to never drink that much ever again. Another groan slipped from her lips as she cracked her fingers to take a peek at the outside world and her eyes gradually adjusted.

Next to her bedding was the best sight in the world, a mug and a full pitcher of water. She grabbed both, filled the mug and greedily drank as much as she could. The light fruity taste gave her a shock causing her to sputter as the liquid went down the wrong pipe but quickly righted itself.

After a brief debate on whether or not she should continue to drink the odd concoction, she shrugged. She already had a mouthful and it shouldn't harm her much to have more. A couple mugs of the cool liquid later, the desert in her mouth was quenched and she focused on her surroundings.

The heat came from her right in a stone hearth and the rough fabric was a piece of linen covering hay that served as her bed. She spied a few bits of straw in her auburn side bangs and proceeded to untangle herself from the offending foliage. She found a few pieces of straw stuck to her forearms in a greenish paste. Investigating, she brought up her arm and took a sniff. It took a few moments but her mind placed the slightly sweet scent as aloe.

Rolling her shoulders, her gaze swept through the hut, taking in the strings of drying herbs and the jars filled with salves and tonics. There was a simple wooden bed in the opposite corner with sheets tossed in disarray. The floor was made of pounded earth and cool to the graze of her hand. Overall, it looked like a small abode that her Nan described for her old cottage.

A shuffling gait caught Rayen's attention as an old woman entered the abode. She had wild gray hair with pale wrinkled skin. Her gnarled and arthritic hands carried small clay pots, probably filled with other herbs or medicines to be used at a later point. Her slight frame wore a fresh gray linen robe with a white layer beneath. A small gentle smile graced her thin lips before she went to store her herbs in the cabinet near the workstation.

She proceeded to free a hand and lifted one finger towards Rayen. _Ah the universal gesture for patience._ Rayen nodded, she would be respectful towards her apparent host. The elderly woman continued with her chores, readying the supplies for tonics and tinctures on the station.

The old woman grabbed dried herbs from her cabinet, three from the highest shelf and two from the bottom. She mixed it to the large pot sitting on the desk. She added golden liquid from a large clay jar on the workstation and then a splash from another pitcher near the fire pit. Rayen could hear the woman muttering under her breath, but it was indistinct and the lady seemed thoroughly engrossed in her work.

Rayen shifted on the bed, sending the crinkly sound throughout the hut. The noise cut through the quiet room and the woman snapped her head towards its origin. Rayen winced at the steely gray gaze and huddled back into the linen blanket. The elder's quick movements and lack of conversation were slowly making Rayen nervous. She let a tentative smile slip and licked her chapped lips.

The elder tutted at Rayen and ladled two mugs full of her concoction. The gnarled hands thrust one towards her and motioned for Rayen to drink. The elder sat down on the workstation's sole chair and let out a relieved sigh while she sipped her tincture.

"Are you sure I can have this?," Rayen questioned. She was hesitant to take something from a stranger, but it seemed that this woman had been taking care of her. Plus she was already sipping away at her own mug. Rayen couldn't remember how she had gotten here and she could only deduce that the woman hulled her out of her wrecked car. "Thank you for taking care of me, ma'am."

The woman flapped her hand at Rayen and nodded. She gestured with own mug toward Rayen's and curled her lips into another smile, showing white teeth. Rayen eyed her mug and, with a heavy sigh, chugged its contents. A shiver crawled its way up her spine and she forced herself to swallow the bitter drink. She coughed to cover up the automatic gag reflex. The woman let out a short laugh and nodded her head, "It isn't the most pleasant of drinks but it helps with the recovery of the body and mind."

Rayen let out a rueful grin, "My Nan used to make concoctions and tinctures. In my experience the helpful ones were never great tasting." Rayen fidgeted with the mug's handle and passed it between her hands. She glanced back up at the woman and asked, "Where are we? The last I remember, I was in my car on the way to the park and hitting a huge tree. I mean, I'm not ungrateful that I'm not dead. Just really confused."

"We are in the forest near there. It took some effort to get you back to my hut, but I managed to get Morty to help. It wasn't as difficult after that." The woman took another swig from her mug and relaxed into her chair. "Morty is a neighbor of sorts and a dear friend. Always willing to help out and lend a hand. Gifted me most of the herbs you see behind me. He was kind enough to escort me to a nearby glade to hunt for a few wild herbs when I found you."

Rayen looked surprised. "I didn't know that the county let people live so close to the parks." Realizing her social faux pas, she quickly tacked on, "Ah! Not that it really matters given the situation! I'm just thankful for your help!"

"No offense taken where none was intended. Be careful next time, Morty or I won't be there to help. Once we reached my cabin, I placed some salve on your forearms and calves. I needed to cut away part of your pants to get to the burns. Morty says that the engine caught fire after you hit the rowen tree. There wasn't much left of your trousers once we got you from the wreckage, mind you." The old woman shrugged. "We salvaged as much as we safely could.

"There was a bag that was singed, a blue quilt blanket, and a few books. The rest of it we weren't able to get out before the fire became to much of a risk. We did the best we could." She gestured to behind Rayen.

Rayen twisted her back and saw that some of her items were indeed there. She was so lucky that they managed to get her Nan's journals and the blanket Nan and mother made for one of Rayen's birthdays. Her hands trembled as they brushed over her precious items. "They mean the world to me. Thank you so much."

"It was easier to get those out then you, to be honest. It was a hard thing to do with these old bones. If I may ask, why are they so important to you?" She asks as she stood from her chair. She grabbed a new kettle from her workstation, streams in water from her large pitcher and placed it near the fire. She snatched a jar from her cabinet and shuffled toward Rayen. "Could you open this please? It's a bit hard for my old hands now-a-days."

Rayen leans forward and grabs the jar. With a quick twist and a unintentional whiff of its contents, she handed it back to the woman. It was a pleasant fruity smell mixed with an undertone of earthiness. A culinarily herb? She hands back the lid and container and asks, "Fruits and culinary herbs?"

The old woman taps her nose with one hand and grabs the jar with the other. "Good sense of smell deary. Indeed, they are. It's part of my morning tincture and very similar to the water you drank earlier. The ale is made by Lasair, another neighbor, and the fruit and herbs were brought by Morty."

She turned toward the kettle and adds a few pinches. "I'm not able to travel as much as I used too. So Morty restocks my supplies and brings me new ingredients from his travels. He goes to many different places with his position as a guide, so he is exposed to more of these things than I am."

Rayen nodded and winced from the stiffness and pain from her legs. A quick glance showed that her shins had already developed blisters and that they were covered in the same aloe paste as her arms. Luckily, it wasn't terribly extensive but still uncomfortable. Her arms were better off with just being singed and wouldn't need much care. Her body had the generalized ache from head to toe probably from the snap against the seatbelt.

Sighing, she grabs the pitcher of water near her makeshift bed and pours herself another drink. She wasn't able to do much about the all over ache but the water would help with the stiffness and the headache. Burns were terrible at causing dehydration as the injured skin let the bodies' water slowly leak out.

Rayen sipped on her mug while she watched the old lady set about preparing for the next day. The elder aligned each jar on her workstation and laid out a new outfit. She eyed Rayen and made a decisive nod of her head, "You don't have much in way of clothes anymore, what hasn't been cut off has been burnt. I have a few outfits here that I wore back in my youth. You'll have to make due though, they are a bit old fashioned by your customs." She proceeded to the chest at the end of her bed and rooted in its contents.

Rayen let a relieved sigh escape and smiled at the woman's back. She was dreading having to make her way home in clothes that were basically scraps. She could feel the linen cloth through the holes in her scrub pants and top. She basically had enough of her clothes left to cover the bare essentials but that was it.

She was a modest girl who preferred to wear light pants and skirts in the summer than cut off shorts that showed her bum or light linen shirts instead of clingy fabrics. It would make her very uncomfortable and she would prefer to wear any other clothes over these remnants. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate all your help. If you could show me the outfit, I'll happily wear it."

The old woman harrumphed as she shook out the dress away from the fire. Indeed, it was old fashioned, but it would help with Rayen's sense of modesty. It was a gown, like the ones from the renaissance fairs Rayen had gone to before. It was a forest green dress showcasing a contrasting trim of Celtic design on a warm golden background and a black flowing lines. The trim lined the upper bodice, the bottom edges, and wrapped around both upper arms.

A smaller trim of the same design trailed along the arms from the wraps to the hands with gold buttons to close the edges. There were tan ribbons along the ribs of the dress to cinch it together. Overall it was a beautiful gown.

The older woman smiled at Rayen's awe. "It was something I made for myself to wear when I was much younger. I was going to gift it to my granddaughter, but she wouldn't mind you having it instead. You need it more than she will." She reaches back into the chest and scoured for more items, fishing out a thin metal belt and a white chemise to complete the set. "She is a sweet young girl, only seen seven summers. Even if she wanted it, it would be years until she grew enough to wear it."

The arthritic hands held up the chemise and offered it to Rayen, "This here is an under dress of sorts. You wear this under the gown to keep the top layer from becoming dirty from touching your skin. If you'd like, wear this tonight and we can place the gown on tomorrow morning before you head off."

The gray hair went everywhere as the older woman shook her head. "It's past dusk and there isn't much in the way of light to get to the next town. You can sleep the night in the extra bed if you want." Her hands gestured to the bed Rayen awoke from. "Or brave the outdoors to travel tonight."

The older woman returned to her chair and let out a deep sigh. "I'm going to have my tincture for my aches and head to bed. We'll place a few more logs on the fire before we sleep to keep us warm for most of the night. If we are lucky there'll be a few embers still burning in the morning for an easy fire."

Rayen nodded her understanding. She doesn't want to walk to town by herself in the dark, especially when she won't have a flashlight or cellphone to call for help. She picks up the thin chemise and rubs it between two of her fingers. It was made from soft fabric and would hold more body heat then the tattered remains of her scrubs. "Would you have bandages that I could wrap my legs with? That way I don't stain your clothes?"

The old woman nodded and shuffled her way to the workstation. A quick tug on one of the three drawers produced two rolls of the requested item. The lady passed them to Rayen and shifted towards her bed. With a turn of her back, Rayen strips to her skivvies, mindful of her burns, and takes a cleanish part of her scrubs, rubs off the aloe ointment on her arms and gives herself a quick rub down with water from the pitcher near her bed. It really wouldn't do to dirty the clothes the lovely woman was letting her use.

Gooseflesh spread and the shivers started to take over, Rayen rushed to wrap the bandages around her calves ensuring the green paste stayed close to her skin, tugged the chemise on and crouched by the fire. It was cold dang it! She reached behind her without looking, trying to find the quilt without leaving to warmth of the fire for even a moment.

A few unsuccessful attempts later, she finally managed to snag the quilt and wrapped herself in its embrace. The movement caused the smell of smoke to rise from the blanket and she knew she would have to wash it once she reached home. During her little foray, the elderly woman had drunk the last of her nighttime tincture and settled in bed.

Rayen was staring when she heard a large snore erupt from the tiny woman and auburn haired nurse snorted. She doesn't know if she would sleep well with a stranger in the room.

She let her mind wonder from one topic to the next. How much will it cost to get another vehicle, how her insurance was going to skyrocket, to the upcoming journey, on foot mind you, to the nearest town. Rayen sighed and determined that she was dry enough to settled back down on her bed. She knew she needed to sleep, that wounds heal better when one rests, that she was as safe as she could be in this hut, that this woman helped care for her when she couldn't care for herself, but having the woman give so much and not mention a cost worried Rayen.

Now don't get her wrong. Humans can be giving, caring and kind, but she hasn't experienced much of that. In her short life, she has learned that nothing, absolutely nothing, is ever free except love from parents or siblings. Everyone asks for something, either a phone number, an opinion or time filling out a survey. They're small things, sure, but it still wasn't free. She was pessimistic by nature and optimistic by choice.

She'll try to trust this woman and do what she could to give back, but take it all with a grain of salt. She let out a long sigh, leaned back against the wall of the hut and forced herself to settle in a doze.

—

Rayen woke to the cold slithering into her bundle of warmth. She found herself curled on the straw bed and wrapped tightly in her blanket. Her foot had fallen out of the bundle and the thin sock didn't provide protection against the chill in the air. Once her glasses, a bit broken but still useful, were properly placed, her blurry eyes adjusted to the dim light and found that the fire had dwindled down to embers.

She spied the small stack of wood on the ground which wasn't far from hearth. Grumbling to herself, she didn't want to leave the warmth of her nest, she dragged the quilt and her sleep heavy body to the pile. She placed a few large pieces on top of the grate and some tinder near the embers. With stirrings from the metal poker and a few puffs of air, the twigs and logs caught fire. Heat and light slowly permeated the room.

Rayen peered into the retreating darkness and saw that the larger bed was still occupied. She took the few quiet steps towards the door and attempted to see where the sun or moon was in the sky. Light was just starting to bleed into the dark expanse. She'd ave to leave once the sun was higher as the travel back to town might take while, plus she wanted to speak with her insurance as soon as possible.

She went back into the hut and sat on her bed.

Rayen's empty stomach began to protest but she ignored it for now. She let her mind wool gather before dealing with the trials of the day. She liked to be prepared and knew she had breakfast bars hidden inside her tan backpack. They say fate favors the prepared and all, so it was something to scarf down before the day began. If you were running late you might not be able to eat a good breakfast before work.

After a few minutes, she was brought back to the present by the rustling on the other side of the room. The old lady was stretching and cracking her back. It was a startlingly loud against the quiet morning and had Rayen wincing. It reminded her of all the times she had to set her brother's dislocated shoulder from his various fights from school. Those were the few times she could use her Nan's teachings without having to tell her parents. She got goodies from her brother for doing it too.

The woman hobbled from the bed and peered over the room. "Thank you for starting the fire. It's lovely to wake to a warm room." Her voice was hoarse from sleep and cracked a bit as she spoke, "I don't typically have a meal in the morning. It's busy with chores and getting ready for patients. And you need to get prepared to make the trek towards the nearest town."

The elder handed the thick gown to Rayen and gestured to her to start dressing. "Let me know if you need help. I'm going to bring in a few more logs and another pitcher of water."

Rayen nodded and looked down at the gown. She was amazed at the softness of the thick cotton. Not wanting the older woman to see her failed attempts, the auburn nurse waited until she left and slips on the outer layer after some fuss. She tied the side ribbons into bows, that tightened the gown snug around her waist, and started to button the sides on both arms. As she tugged the outer gown here and there, the medicine lady returned with her pitcher full and two logs held against her side with her other arm. The woman smiled, "It looks good on you deary. The coloring compliments your hair wonderfully."

It was true. The auburn locks were a vivid contrast to the dark green gown. The trim showed off her pale skin and the gown curved gently over her curvy form. The small metal belt hung loosely on her hips and accentuated her waist. The heart shaped bodice showed off the five charms on a golden necklace that rested on her creamy skin. She was petite in stature barely reaching five-three, but the gown complimented her figure. The young woman's face flushed at the lady's compliment.

As she looked up and down her form she noticed her tennis shoes, they made the whole ensemble look off. "Thank you for everything. The gown. Saving my stuff, heck, saving my life. Just thank you." She hesitates for a moment before continuing, "Is there something I can do for you or get you in return? I should be able to come back here easily once I get a rental car."

The older woman smiled and nodded her head, "If you wouldn't mind, would you hand this to the head of the Stark family?" She rooted through her workstation and came up with a parcel. It looked thick with an old fashioned red wax seal closing the opening to the package. "I was going to have Morty make a special trip to deliver it to them. Since you are heading to town, would you mind giving it to them yourself?"

Rayen's eyes widen in surprise. That is all she needs from her? "Certainly! I can easily do that for you!"

She took the parcel and placed it in the organized portion of her backpack. Before closing it, she found one of the hidden compartments and dragged out a chocolate breakfast bar. She was surprised to find her large exercise jug in the bottom of the bag. She took it out and replaced it with the folded up quilt. "Before I head out, may I get some water for the journey?"

The woman nodded and waved her hand towards the desk. "Take the water from the left pitcher. It has similar concoction as yesterday, flavored with apples and pomegranates." The jug was quickly filled with the cold water and sealed. One of the buckles was used to secure it to the backpack and she hiked it up over her shoulders.

It felt a bit odd wearing a gown while carrying a backpack, but she wasn't going to look into a gifted horses' mouth so to speak. "Is there anything you want me to tell them when I give them your package?"

The elderly woman let a grin stretch over her mouth, "Tell them that it is from Chailleach. They will know who I am. Enjoy your journey as much as I think you will. Just stay on Morty's path, it's fairly easy to follow." She flapped her hands once more, shooing her out of the hut.

"Thank you?" Rayen replies keeping her face clear of confusion and smiles at the woman. "Once I'm able too, I'll bring the gown back and check on you. Please let me know if there's anything more I can do to help. It's the least I could do for someone that saved me." With that, she steps through the archway and began her trek back home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

 _Bravery is not the absence of fear but forging ahead despite being afraid._

 _-Robert Liparulo_

"Finally!" She shouts as Rayen comes across a small dirt road after hours of wandering through the damn forest. As much as she loved being one with nature and all, she was not a nature girl! She loved her AC, her showers and her modern conveniences!

Inspecting both up and down the road gave her no additional clues as to which was the closest path to civilization. She shrugged and decided follow the road on the left. Maybe she'll hit a store and call a taxi to take her the rest of the way home. The first thing she'd do once she was home was take a shower. She continued on the road and sipped the fruity water from her jug as she went.

The park wasn't in a populated area and it should be the middle of the week, if her internal clock was correct. It wasn't that odd that the back roads weren't busy, everyone was likely at work. With a deep sigh, Rayen continued down her designated path with determination. The monotonous marching left her with little to do but let her mind wonder and her thoughts began to review the task list she would need to complete once she was home.

The lack of concentration caused her misstep and trip on the uneven earth. She tried to recenter her balance and her hands flung out to catch herself when she couldn't stop her forward momentum. A groan tore from her throat as her legs banged together and the injured skin ripped.

She could feel the bandages around her legs slowly growing damp. They would only stifle the bleeding for so long. Rayen needed to get to a store or phone before she passed out. She slowly pushes herself up and, after grabbing the scuffed jug, trudged up the uneven ground. She continues her staggering march forward in a pain filled daze.

After her calves started to become numb, Rayen knew she needed to take a break. The pins and needles sensation was radiating from her legs with each step and she can feel the crusted bandages pulling at her skin. She resigned herself to changing them before they caused the wounds to become infected or tear at her skin.

A few steps off the path, she found a large shaded oak tree to sit under. She slips off her pack and uses the tree to gingerly lower herself down to the ground. She unclips the flap holding the compartment closed and roots through it for the extra bandages from the old lady.

She struck gold when she found rolls of sterile gauze from her hospital in the bowels of the bag. You could never tell what was crammed in there since, once her shift ended, she would unloaded everything from her scrub pockets into it. She unwraps the gauze and saline from their packaging then sets them within arms reach. After fidgeting and placing the equipment in the correct order, Rayen huffed when she couldn't procrastinate any longer.

She rolls up the hem of her gowns and uses the saline to loosen the fabric before slowly unwinding the wrapping on one leg. The blisters probably popped during the fall and the fluid leaked onto the bandages. She acquired a new wound where her skin split during the clumsy episode. Fresh blood slowly dripped from the tear and she put pressure on the site with the old fabric. The bleeding stopped and she tied off the new gauze once she finished winding it around her burns.

Her other leg received the same treatment but it fared slightly better than the first. It seemed that only the blisters burst during the stumble. She dabbed at the clear yellow tinged fluid leaking from the blisters and applied the second roll.

Rayen put the dirty gauze in the hospital packaging and placed it into the outermost pocket for later disposal. Her hand snagged a chocolate protein bar from the pocket which she mechanically ate for lunch. Hooray for calories and sugar!

She continues to munch on her lunch bar when she begins to feel a low vibration from the earth under her. As the small quake quickly grew, she heard a faint rumble that swelled as the vibrations worsened. The shock grew so large that it reached deep into her and rattle her bones. _There shouldn't be a fault line so close to here?!_

Minutes pass before the quakes subside. She uses the tree for leverage to right herself up on the shivering ground. Rayen snags her pack and heads off to check out the surrounding area. As a nurse, she had to respond in an emergency and see if anyone needed assistance. She followed the dirt road for another 100 yards before she found the edge of the forest and the low constant rumble morphed into a deafening roar. The cacophony became sinister as she passed the last of the pines and onto a bloody battlefield.

The terrible noise stemmed from several dark mounds closest to her. The screams from man and beast mixed as it sliced through the air. Rayen's body halted as a large brigade on horseback cut through the army surrounding a small battalion of men. Even with the distance, she could see that the ground was stained red. The clang of metal against metal registered in the back of her mind and the shock muted the thoughts that slithered through, _This isn't right. Those men are using swords, spears! They are wearing leather armor! What the hell is happening?_ She forcibly ignored it as she let the sight before her hold her undivided attention.

The hills had hundreds of people heaped atop one another. She could hear the agony from the men's screams that were buried and trapped under the weight. She could see the battered soldiers dying in front of her. Limbs were freshly amputated, entrails layed out from bodies, spears and arrows pierced through chests, blood hemorrhaging from wounds. She watched in dismay as the men on horseback slaughtered the soldiers with the red and white emblems on their chests. The tide seemed to have turned for the once trapped battalion as they fought back with the new brigade.

The impulse to rush towards the wounded fought against the basic instinct to run. Her body vibrated in indecision with her hands clenching and releasing. _Should I go and possibly get hurt? Die? Hell no! I want to live! But… could I live with myself knowing that I could have helped and didn't? That I let someone die?_ After what felt like hours, she came to her decision and she darted toward the nearest mound.

She ignored the scarlet stains on her once white tennis shoes, the squish and the give to her steps. She focused on the closest man and the search for a pulse proved futile as she saw the man's abdomen cut open. His face forever carved in misery upon his death. Her stomach started to rebel at the site before her and she fought to keep the lunch bar down as she reached for the next man.

Each soldier died in anguish and excruciating pain. Most had already passed before she reached them. Others were on the verge of death and all she could do was be by their sides as they passed. Some were crying and babbling as their eyes lost their luster. She went through countless soldiers and hadn't found one yet that she could help. Her bloody hands shook as she staggered to the next mound.

She found a redheaded man unconscious on the stained earth with his legs pinned by corpses. Her eyes found several lacerations scattered on his visible body and a large knot on his forehead as she discovered a strong pulse at the base of his neck. His chest rose and fell in an equally rapid and shallow rhythm, which discounted a collapsed lung and he probably acquired broken ribs. Her hand reached to open his eyes when her head was pulled from behind by a strong grip in her hair.

A soldier with the white cross emblem had his blood caked paw wrapped around the low ponytail and used it to pull her away from the wounded man. Scared by the man's wild and wide gaze, she tugged at her hair and beat his arm.

"What are you doing? Let go! You're hurting me!" she screamed as she swung her fists. He only laughed as her hands hit the leather arm guards and her scalp was on fire from the force he was using to pull her hair. Twisting to see him, he watched with uncaring eyes and sneered at her as she shrieked. His sneer turned menacing as he raised his stained sword into the air. "Someone help me!"

 _I knew this was a bad idea! I freaking knew it!_ She grit her teeth and snarled at her capture as the gleaming metal began the downward swing towards her neck. _None of these crazy bastards would help! They're all certifiable!_ She lashed out at his ankle with her better leg in a desperate bid for freedom.

Her foot knocked his together causing him to lose his balance and release her hair when he tried to remain standing. She tackled the man to the ground, sat her full weight on his chest and grabbed the neck to his loose leather armor with an opposing fist. Quickly, she shifted her weight forward, yanked back her elbows and the crossing of her arms pressed down on his neck.

The modified choke hold compressed his arteries causing him to blackout as the blood supply was cut off. To ensure that he would stay down, she kept the pressure of the hold and dimmy thought that she should thank Bjorn for his lessons in self defense.

Panting, Rayen sat back on the man's chest and reoriented herself to her surroundings. The horsemen and battalion had reduced the opposing armies' numbers considerably with only a handful of men trying to stave off the attacks. A breath from the body below her brought her back to own situation.

She knew that the man wouldn't stay unconscious for long and she needed to immobilize him somehow. The scabbard next to her thigh gave her a new idea. _Lightbulb_ , raced through her thoughts as a grin spread. She wrestled her attackers belt off his waist, twisted the leather around his wrists and tightened it.

After surveying her work, she looked over to the unconscious redhead close to her and it seemed that he'd survived during her scuffle. She rushed to his side, found his strong pulse, and let out a sigh of relief. She hooked her hands under his arms and pulled his pinned legs out from the corpses. Her mind raced as she tugged his limp body away from the mound, rushing back to her assault and her lack of an adequate defense.

She doubled back to procure her attacker's sword and kept it close to her. None of these men could be trusted and she could try to protect at least this one man. Another loud shout caught her attention as a remaining spearman rushed at her and her self imposed charge. Raising the sword to mid chest with both hands on the pummel, she placed herself before the prone figure. She knew that the reach of the spear easily out did her sword, but she has to at least try to defend them. _I have to be insane for doing this!_

Rayen's body tensed in preparation for the upcoming attack as a bloody sword pierced through the spearman's abdomen. The sword was roughly jerked out from the dying body and an older man took his place before her as the spearman fell. The scruffy man was older, about her father's age, wearing a bloody brown robe and held the aforementioned sword in his hands. His steely gaze sized Rayen up as he kicked the spear away from the hemorrhaging man and stepped forward.

 _Fuckity fuck fuck!_ How am I supposed to deal with this?! Rayen bit her lip as her mind screamed at her and her sight focused solely on the threat in front of her. The man peered around Rayen, eyeing the wounded patient, and snapped back towards her. As he stepped forward, she moved her body to keep herself between the dangerous man in front of her and the redhead. _Why am I doing this again?!_

The man spoke lowly as he approached, speaking in a soft lyrical accent that she had trouble understanding. She was was so overwhelmed by the passing minutes hat she wasn't able to concentrate enough to understand what he was saying. She shook her head to rid herself of the tears building up in her eyes. She tightened her grasp on her sword's pummel as she shouted, "I don't know what your saying! I can't understand you! Leave us alone!"

The man tilted his head to the side and considered his options. Rayen firmly stayed between the old man and her charge with her sword raised. Her eyes darted to another soldier coming up beside her opponent. The soldier spoke to the old man him in the same accent and to low for her to hear. Both men were watching her intently with their eyes swinging back and forth between the redhead and her.

They were _too_ interested in the man behind her! Either this is their friend or someone they really want to kill! The old man swung his free hand out, barring the younger soldier from getting closer to them. With eyes that never left hers, he slowly lowered his sword to pierce the ground and held his hands out in a placating manner. Only then did he take another small step towards Rayen.

"Don't come closer!" She shouted as she backed up from the advancing man. She had no doubt in her mind that he had another weapon hidden in the billowy folds of his robes and she doesn't know if he was an ally or enemy. Her retreating foot nudged the wounded man's chest and he groaned in pain. The worry that she was wrong about his ribs, that they had punctured his lungs when she moved him, urged her to take a quick glance at him.

And that was when the old viper struck.

—

Ser Davos was perplexed, how did a girl get onto the battlefield? Her gown was covered in blood, suggesting that she had been here for some time. He could tell she was terrified by her wide eyed gaze and the trembling hands holding an unsteady sword. As much as his gentlemanly manners told him to help her, she had Tormund behind her and a weapon in her hands.

"That is my ally behind you. Let me come and see to him." Davos ensured that his voice low and calm as he beckoned. He could see the drag marks on the ground that the girl left when she pulled Tormund away from the mountain of corpses. He could see Tormund's chest rising as he breathed, but he was concerned as Tormund was a hardy man and not one to stay down after an injury.

The girl spoke back to him in the rough accent that took him a moment to process. Immediately, he knew that the girl was in a shocked haze, she couldn't discern whether or not he was an enemy. It was a common experience after a boy's first battle.

With his attention diverted he hadn't heard before Mormont soldier's approach. "Ser, the last of Bolton's men have been rounded up and restrained. Lord Snow has recaptured Winterfell and Ramsey Bolton has been detained," he rasped before eyeing the girl in front of them. "Do you want me to take care of this Ser?"

Ser Davos was surprised by Jon's actions. He knew that there was a high chance that Jon would kill Ramsey before this skirmish ended, considering what he had done to Lady Sansa. Jon was a generally benevolent Lord and would normally restrain his enemies rather than killing them, but he was still a man that protected what was his and Ramsey Bolton was a threat to what was his. Perhaps there was another reason why Lord Snow let him live?

Davos shook his head and drew out his arm to prevent the Mormont from advancing further. The girl was skittish enough as it was and, with her unsteady hands, a danger to herself and Tormund. "Don't spook the girl. You could get either of them killed," he chided. Anyone untrained holding a weapon was as dangerous as a soldier, mostly to themselves but he didn't want to risk Tormund. Jon seemed to confide in the man and he was a respected leader of the Wildlings. It would be troublesome to lose him now.

Ser Davos stuck his sword into the loose dirt beside him, raised his hands towards the girl and took a hesitant step forward. She shouted at him again, clearly frustrated and scared. Each step he took towards the duo caused her own to retreat. He would have to be patient and wait for an opening before disarming her.

The opportunity came when she tapped Tormund with her retreating foot. The foolish girl glanced at him when he groaned and Davos propelled into action. He rushed towards the girl and swatted the sword out of her hold. She screamed as he grabbed her wrists and held her still. She attempted to kick him and struggled against his grasp, yanking her hands downward to free them. The girl yelled and screamed as she fought against his grasp.

"Mormont, check Tormund while I deal with her!" He shouted as he restrained the girl against his chest. She was a tiny thing, barely coming up to his collar. She quieted down as he watched Mormont go to the Wildling.

With his attention elsrwhere, the girl bashed the back of her skull against his chin. She smashed the heel of her foot against the instep of his and forced her elbow into his abdomen all the while she screamed at him to let her go. Davos managed to recapture one of her wrists as she reached forward towards the Wildling. She turned around and spat more words at him as she snarled. Her free hand fisted as it rushed towards his face and he barely able to ensnare it before contact.

"You will stop this and be quiet! We are not going to harm you or Tormund," he shouted. He had enough wounds from the fight and did not wish to add more from this puny girl. He held her still as the Mormont checked on the redhead.

"He seems to be alright, Ser. No major injuries that I can see. I'll take him back towards the manor for a healer to look at." Mormont slung the Wildling over his shoulder and looked back questioningly. "Do you wish for me to send another to help you with her?"

"If I can't handle a girl, I wouldn't have made it through the last battle," Davos scoffed. "I will deal with her on my own." The Mormont man nodded proceeded towards a herd of remaining war horses. He slung the man over the rump of one and rode towards Winterfell.

Thankfully, the girl had quite her caterwauling after seeing that Mormont or he would not hurt either of them. Even though she barely understand him, he kept his voice low and even as he said, "I am going to let you go. Do not hit me or go for a weapon. It will not end well for you." He squeezes her wrists once more before releasing them. The girl quickly backed away from Davos while rubbing the delicate structure.

She kept him firmly in her sight while she eyed the remaining battlefield. The men from the Veil were leading a procession of prisoners towards Winterfell. Others were moving toward the mounds and sorting out the dead and injured. The wounded would need to be taken via wagon back to the fortress. The dead would have to be burned least they become fodder for the Night King.

Davos knew he would be needed at the fortress for regrouping and strategizing. The thought of leaving this girl alone and out in the wilderness kick started his gentlemanly manners. It was clear that she didn't know how to defend herself and that her companions had left her either to run when they saw the battle or to wait and loot once the knights left. He sighed as he pictured his little Shireen being in the place of this girl. Sheathing his sword he said, "Follow me, girl."

He stalked towards the herd of horses and, when he didn't hear footsteps, turned to inspect the young woman again. "Come." He added emphasis to his word as he gestured from the girl to himself.

The girl eyed him and slowly made her way towards him. She stopped just out of arm's reach and waited for him. He nodded and proceeded toward the herd. Davos caught the reigns of two horses and ripped the Bolton's banner off the chestnut. "Saddle up." He pointed from her to the saddle.

Her mouth gapped as she looked at the large horse. She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh as she nodded her head. She grabbed the saddle's horn and lifted herself up, at least she attempted too as the pack on her back unbalanced her. After two misses, she finally got herself up on the horse and resettled her gowns around her legs.

Davos nodded and vaulted himself up the black mare. He faced her once more and enunciated, "Follow me." He waited for her acknowledgement before snapping the reins and heading towards Winterfell at a slow pace. It was obvious that the girl had minimal experience riding. He periodically glanced over his shoulder to ensure that the girl remained close while they marched, otherwise he was silent as he organized his thoughts of the upcoming work.

—

AN: And there you have it! There are a few hidden Easter eggs in this work. I hope it was an enjoyable chapter for you all.

Please read and review! I look forward to them and wish to grow as a writer! Critiques are welcomed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

 _From a drop of water, a logician could infer the possibility of an Atlantic or a Niagra without having seen or heard of one or the other._

 _-Arthur Conan Doyle_

What in the world had she gotten herself into? Where the heck was she? The people here spoke oddly, used ye olde weapons, and rode horses! She got assaulted by a swordsman, almost killed by a spearman, restrained by an old man and was now following said old man towards Gods knows where! Her only justifications for following him were his somewhat nice treatment with her, compared to the white emblemed soldiers, and the care he had for his comrade.

She staved off the emotional tsunami threatening to bombard her by pushing those feelings into a tiny box, shoved it deep in her mind to the deal-with-later bin and focused solely on the situation in front of her. Rationally, she knew this couldn't be her home. The people near her don't speak with this accent, not that she could remember.

People didn't commit mass murder by swords or spears, especially on horseback. They didn't shoot people down with a storm of arrows. They didn't wear leather or metal armor. Most don't use horses as a standard mode of transportation. They use guns and bombs. They wore tactical armor or Kevlar. They drove cars, trucks or motorcycles! They wouldn't wait to call for help, to get an ambulance or a medevac unit on the site!

Rayen tightened her grasp on the reins as she came to the conclusion that she wasn't remotely close to home. She probably wasn't even in the same state, perhaps not even the same country. It wasn't likely that these men knew of landlines or cell phones, going by their lack of modern warfare.

Rayen took in a steady breath as her mind mulls over the facts. First off, the pain in her calves and scalp prove that she is, in fact, alive. Second, she is dealing with an unknown culture with an obviously different set of values. And third, she is surrounded by men that went around killing each other and she has absolutely no defense against them! She hadn't been taught how to use a sword, fire a bow or harpoon a person. She only learned a few moves from her brother at his insistence!

The tsunami struggled against Rayen's tenuous control. She felt the tears begin to prick in the back of her eyes. She tried to blink them away, to keep the old man from seeing her as weak, well _weaker_. Using a clean edge of her sleeve, she dabbed at the pearls before they fell. The man didn't seem to register it or he was saving her pride. Either way, she needed to find herself a distraction.

The sleek muscles moving below her provided an adequate diversion, as the horse shifted its weight. She'd only ridden a horse once before during a lesson at summer camp when she was a kid. Rayen barely remembered how to mount and, adding insult to injury, it was made exceedingly difficult with her gown. Her gaze wandered down to the red stains from where her knees had rested against the earth and hoped she could remove them before they could fully set in.

The startling clang of metal meeting stone from the horse's hooves had Rayen perking up and taking notice. The sight in front of her was an odd mixture of daunting and awe inspiring. The dark stone of the castle walls were in sight with the wooden doors asque. The dark wood rooftops stood out against the hazy gray of the sky. Rayen could see the men arming the ramparts and deceased lingering on the ground.

Her eyes frantically sought out the old man she followed, hoping that this wasn't going to be another battlefield. He ignored the dead littered on the ground as he entered the courtyard. He let out a long drawn out sigh and slumped his shoulders as he eyed the large form laying on the stones. "He did not make it."

She pulled on her best stoic face, the one she used for difficult patients or situations at work, all the while her mind raced at the clear evidence of Rayen's change in location. _That… man? Thing? Whatever! It's freaking huge! It has to be a good two stories high!_ She kept a careful clamp on her emotions, not daring to let them show to these strangers. Her clenching hands tugged on the reins causing the mare to let out a high snort.

The old man twisted in the saddle of his own stallion and raised an eyebrow. "Have you come to your senses?," he questioned as he guided the horse to face her.

Rayen hesitantly answered, "I have, I think." Her eyes darted around the fortress as she processed the situation and she took in a steadying breath, "I believe I should thank you for helping me earlier and perhaps apologize for hurting you. I didn't know what was happening and, well, I was scared." She looked hopelessly around.

Old Man, that's what she was going to call him, rubbed his reddened chin and nodded. "I suppose that is to be expected but why were you at the battle? Were you and your companions waiting to loot the dead?"

"Companions? I was trying to get home and I came across... that!" She shook her head as she gestured vaguely behind her. "And of course I wouldn't loot someone! Why would I want to do that? Plus wouldn't it make more sense to wait until you all finished each other off before starting that?!"

He nodded his head, "As I thought then, you got yourself into more trouble than you could handle." He spotted a stable hand further in the bailey and urged his horse forward. "Follow me. We will get you off the horse and taken care of shortly."

After an embarrassing dismount requiring help from Old Man, they made their way through a gate house and into the keep. As they marched through the halls, they would pass torches hanging on the walls, a few glass windows illuminated the stone, and a few guards in full armor. Several of the guards wore different sigils, some depicting axes and moose heads, but bears were the most prominent. The men spoke quick updates on their designated quadrants as Old Man past, showing respect towards him.

Rayen tried to ignore the conversation between them, but there was little that she could do without focusing on the present. If she did that she might open the lid on her emotional powder keg and have a breakdown in the hallway. Instead she listened to the report and noticed a pattern emerging.

They listed the injured, losses, captives and potential supplies they found within the fortress as they cleared each floor. The commanders eyed her as they spoke, but largely ignored her presence. They didn't question why she was there and focused on the task at hand before sucrying off, probably to see to their wounded. After four reports later, the last from a man in a full suit of armor, Rayen became less inclined to listen.

Overall, it seemed that there was a large number of injured and dead from both sides. Rayen triedand failed to ignore the reports when they spoke of the captives, mostly from the Umbers and Karstarks. Logically, she knew this could happen in war and such. But… she doesn't know how she feels about it. She can't say exactly what they were doing to them. She hopes that they wouldn't be interrogated and, even if they were, that it would only be verbally. That they would receive the treatment they need.

Rayen's consciousnesses reared it's head and poked at her. She felt split in two, the need to avoid further attention warred with the need to _help._ On one hand, it wasn't a good idea for her to bring further scrutiny down on herself. It would only lead to questions that she doesn't have the answers too. On the other hand, she was oath bound to help when and where she could. When the armored commander finished his report and left, her conscious kicked her logical support beams out from under her.

"I can help," she blurted out and fidgeted with the hem of her sleeves. "The injured I mean. I'm a nurse. I'm not a doctor, but I can help with some of your wounded."

He shifted his focus back toward his companion. He'd obviously gotten lost in thought and almost forgot about her. Old Man considered her for a moment before nodding, "Very well, we shall accept your help." He turned back down the stone halls and requested, "If you could, we have established a hall for the injured. Perhaps you can provide help with the healers."

He swiftly took her through labyrinth and she knew when they reached their desired destination. The low groans and cries were muffled by the heavy door. He lifted the metal handle, pulled it open with little effort, and Rayen steeled her stomach. She knew this would be difficult, bordering on horrible for her. It would give her mind more material to torment her when she sleeps.

Rayen drew up her gown's skirt and walked into the mayhem.

* * *

As she stepped through the threshold, the first thing she did was mentally review her triage skills. She'll admit, it sounds horrible when you first hear of it, but it helps the most people survive in times of crisis. One of the techniques used in a mass casualty situation involved the quick assessment and ranking of a person's injuries. You would 'tag' someone with an appropriate color: Black for an expectant death, red for immediate care required for survivability, yellow for observation for the potentially unstable, green for the walking wounded, and white for a dismiss. Those with a black tag aren't likely to make it regardless of the interventions one had at the time. They needed _more_ than what one had on hand and those supplies could be of better use elsewhere.

Her first patient she came upon was a man in leather gear with a bear emblem. She could see he had a dislocated arm and a few minor cuts. He had difficulty focusing and would shake his head often. She cradled the man's cheeks between her palms and faced his head toward her. She began her list of questions that was sure to soon annoy every patient there. "What's your full name?" She asked again after gently tapping his cheek.

He jerked in surprise as his eyes finally focused on her. "Varn Mormont," he slurred.

A quick glance at the man behind her had him nodding, "He wears the Mormont colors."

She nods and continues her questions, "Where are we at Varn?"

"Winterfell," he answered and was confirmed by Old Man.

"And the year?"

"301, Lady," the soldier slurred. Again, she looked back at the elderly man and he shook his head. "It is the year 303."

 _Damn, he's confused,_ she bit her lip. Head injuries are never good, especially since she couldn't have a picture taken of the brain like she normally would in the hospital. "Varn, did you bump your head? Are your ears ringing?" Her hands searched his skull as she asked and found a nice goose egg on the side. She felt him nod more than heard his mumble yes.

 _Hopefully it's just a concussion._ She couldn't rule out a brain bleed without a more detailed picture, which she couldn't really get. "Varn, you likely have a concussion, an injury to your brain, when you got hit on your head. You can't go to sleep and have to stay focused. You'll need someone to stay with you for a little while."

Rayen looked around and saw a few women wearing tattered gowns helping other wounded soldiers. One was passing by with a basket of bloody bandages. "Lady?" The woman ignored her and continued on with her task. Oh how Rayen hated being ignored. It was rather rude. She pitched her voice lower and added more force to it. "Excuse me, ma'am."

The servant paused and tilted her body back towards Rayen. She started to sneer at the woman when she saw the elder nearby. She quickly bowed before the duo as hesitatingly answered, "How may I help you? I was fetching more bandages for the healers. Do you require some as well?"

Rayen glanced at Old Man with a raised brow. He raised a gray one of his own as he continued to watch her, not denying nor helping her. Rayen shrugged and glanced back at the woman before asking, "I'm Rayen, a nurse, a trained healer of sorts, and I am trying to help. I'll need a few things though. First off, I'll need your name and cooperation."

So began Rayen's semi-hostile takeover of the medical hall.

* * *

This Rayen required Iryna to leave her bandage fetching duties and help with Varn, a Mormont soldier sitting behind her. The woman healer requested that she'd find a few capable soldiers to bring in a heavy table, one that a man could lay across. Iryna's eyes darted back and forth between Ser Davos and Rayen. She was hesitant to follow the directions of this stranger over the wrath of their own healers and the others that came with the Knights of the Veil. Her shoulders sagged in relief as Davos gave a subtle nod and jerked his head towards the auburn woman.

"Give her what she needs. Have another find bandages for the men." He looked back towards Rayen, "We will see if what you say is true. If you really can help our men." He cocked his head to the side. "I will not help you more than this. The healers in our employ have proven themselves and will take priority."

The woman healer, Rayen, pursed her lips tightly and slowly nodded. Her eyes sharpened as she lanced Ser Davos a glare. "I will do what needs to be done, regardless of the others interference. Though, I am giving you fair warning, old man. If I think they're doing something wrong, I _will_ stop them. The men come first, not their pride."

Iryna shuddered at the sheer audacity of this woman. How could she speak in such a tone toward Lord Snow's advisor?! Surly the woman will be reprimanded. Iryna's blue gaze fixed on Davos as he chuckled and replied in kind, "Then I cannot wait to see your results. Prove to me that you are what you say you are and we will speak after that. Perhaps you will be worth the chaos you will undoubtedly cause."

Iryna watched the Advisor's back as he left the room and with it, the crazy woman in charge of her. She straightened her shoulders and turned back to do her duty.

The healer was playing a staccato rhythm with her odd shoe against the stone and tapping her chin. Iryna shivered as she saw the blood staining the healer's gown, but ignored her disgust. "What may I assist you with?"

The hardened gaze fell on Iryna and she seemed to judge her. Iryna did her best to keep her face as blank as possible, just as she did when dealing with the tantrums of a young Arya and Sansa. The healer seemed to find what she needed before listing her necessities.

She wanted a heavy table, a large fire, as many pots as she could find, fresh water, clean bandages, the ointments and the tinctures that the healers were using for the wounded, needles, spools of thread, and a fresh apron. Iryna boggled as the woman started off towards the next soldier, this one with large slices across his limbs.

Iryna hurried towards the kitchen, filled with women from the encampment scurrying around. Some taking inventory of the food, others washing the dirtied linen bandages over the large fire, and all glancing at Iryna as she puffed in the entrance.

The oldest woman, Baylee Greenwood, clucked her tongue setting the other women back into motion and took stock of her niece. Coldly she asked, "What do you need Iryna?"

Iryna kept the irritation from her voice. She knew not to push her aunt, especially when she was surrounded by the other women. The hag would only become vicious if she did anything that could question her authority. She kept her eyes on her as rattled off the healer's list, "I was told to fetch these for Maester Rayen."

Baylee scoffed and folded her arms, "There is no one here by that name. You lie."

Iryna held off the burst of anger that flared in her veins. "I do not, dear aunt. Ser Davos brought her to the hall and assigned me to her."

Baylee's dark eyes sharpened as she took in the information. Maesters were rare given the lengthy education they needed and the strenuous requirements placed upon them with the title. A female healer was an oddity in itself, but one brought by the Advisor… Baylee's keen mind snapped at the possibility to gather more power. She would need to endear herself to this Maester Rayen. "Alas, we are rather busy and will not be able to send but one to help. Take Taena to assist." She flourished her hand towards the mousy girl cleaning the pantry.

Iryna nearly growled at her aunt. Taena wouldn't be much help, she barely talked. She was clumsy and hid herself away from others. The brown haired mouse even squeaked when startled. Iryna ground her teeth and thanked her aunt.

Taena let out her signature squeak when Iryna grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the supply carts. She again listed the Maester's requests to the mouse as she filled nearby baskets full of bandages to bring back. "Find some spools of thread and bring as many pots as we can spare. When I get back to the hall, I'll ask Ronard and Cyrus to bring in the table."

The mousy girl ran off to get her items as Iryna dragged back her basket. She found her cousins, lightly wounded but still in good health, and informed them of the Maester's request and their mother's help. The youngest sneered at her when she asked but Cyrus gave him a cutting look and they went about finding the table.

Iryna's patience grew thin dealing with her family and she calmed herself as she added wood to the fire in the hall's hearth. She took stock of the room, eyes wandering to find her assigned Maester. She could only gap as she found her ripping blankets into large strips, looping it around the man's shoulder, cradling another offset arm and tying it at the opposite shoulder. Iryna could see the men, some with new bonds while others have small cups of ale.

She wasn't surprised when Taena brought in the pots and went about filling them with water from a nearby barrel. The mouse placed them on the fire and pulled out the spool. The Maester saw them and smiled as she went over. Rayen's hazel eyes widened as she saw the new addition and her smile softened.

"Thank you for coming. I could use the help." She grabbed the spool and started to unwind it. The ball was placed in another bowl that she had to have commandeered from another servant, "Once the water boils, ladle out some into this one with the thread. Keep it boiling for five minutes before getting me. Never dip the bowls into the boiling water or let the ladle touch the water in the bowls. It could dirty them and spread infection."

Rayen focused on her first assistant and said, "Thank you for bringing these and finding her. Once we have a table we'll need a heavy stone, ten pounds or so, a lot of linens and some ale."

Iryna shrugged, "The table should be coming shortly. My cousins wouldn't want to disappoint after all."

"Good. We'll use them to get the men with slings to lie face down on the table, one by one of course, dangle the injured hand off the side, tie the heavyweight to their hand and let it pop back into place." The maester nodded to herself. "I'll have them to hold down the ones that need their bones reset or for the ones that need stitches."

She glanced back at her mouse and assistant. "I'll need you both to give some men ale, to keep them relaxed, and keep the water boiling. Oh, and the other items if we can. I may need one of you to sit with some that might not make it. They will need to be kept comfortable as they pass."

Iryna and Taena glanced at each other with the former shrugging and went about their tasks. Iryna was the one that dealt with finding items and speaking to the other servants. Taena stayed to supply ale to the wounded or fetch items from their stock.

Taena was there when the Maester shook her head and let out a long sigh. The soldier before her wasn't responding to questions and not blinking as she made jabbing motions towards his eyes. One of the most basic reflexes, the Maester told her. She had Taena apply an opium paste to the man's chest and sit with him. She encouraged Taena to speak softly to him, about anything, to let him know he wasn't alone and to let her know when he stopped breathing. She learned that one needed to breathe at least twelve times a minute, about a half a turn of the hourglass she found in the kitchen.

Iryna's cousins brought the desired table and the Maester had the blond one, Ronard, leave as he was causing trouble for Iryna. Taena saw him 'accidentally' spill the bowl of boiled thread and bandages. The Maester must have too, when she told him to help or leave as she did not have time for childish games. He tried to plead his case but she cast him a steely glare and he huffed as he left. She gave a glance towards the other brother, a brown haired Cyrus, and tilted her head.

Cyrus only watched her as he shrugged and asked where he could help. The Maester had him go to Iryna for further instructions. He nodded as they duo grabbed one soldier and placed him on the table. Rayen showed the trio how to tie the heavy stone to the man's palm and told them to leave it. After a quarter hour, the man yelped as it slid back into place.

The Maester finished stitching another soldier's bicep before washing her hands and checking on the patient. She let out a hoot as she found the man's arm back in place. She instructed Iryna and Cyrus to place it back in the sling and start on the next one. She told the slightly inebriated man that he shouldn't lift his arm above his shoulder or it could pop back out of place.

Once they set up the next soldier, Rayen had them binding chests, for broken ribs she said, and checking on the ones she said had concussions. She told them that it was similar to a bruise on the brain when it bounced around after a quick movement. She gave them the list of questions to ask and had them tell her if there was a change in their answers.

Eventually Maester Rayen worked her way to another corner of the hall that had a healer working in the area. He was working on a man who barely had a 'flesh wound,' as she called them, when another was bleeding from an open laceration, which the male Maester had not placed a tourniquet. The trio learned earlier that it stopped the blood flow to the area below it and should only be placed for a short while.

Maester Rayen got a sour look on her face as she grabbed supplies and went to the bleeding soldier. She quickly applied pressure to the wound with her clean bandages and spoke softly to the wounded man. Taena brought her newly boiled thread and needles and switched positions with the female Maester. The male healer, Keegan Iryna told Rayen later, attempted to use her fresh bandages with his bloody hands.

Rayen snarled at him and slapped his arm away from her clean supplies. The man yelled in surprise and quickly glared at her. "What do you think you're doing?! I need those for this man!"

Rayen turned fully to him, narrowed her cold hazel eyes, and loudly said, "For what? A man that barely needs help? You should have seen that another soldier, _right next to you I might add,_ needed more help then," she flapped her hand at the 'injured' man, "this one. Is it not your duty to help the injured? What a waste." She turned to Iryna, who supplied her with new water and lye for cleaning her hands before starting to stitch her patient's wound.

Iryna hid a smile behind the sleeve of her gown as she balanced the bowl in one hand. Keegan had always helped the higher ups first before helping the commoners. The action caught his attention as he rounded on her, "You! Servant! You were to fetch me bandages."

Iryna frowned at him and prepared a rebuttal, when Rayen cut in. "Old Man had her help me. If you have a problem with that, go take it up with him." She sniped the thread with their commandeered scissors, placing the needle into a dirty bowl.

Rayen smiled at the soldier and said, "All finished. Keep from straining the muscle and tearing the stitches. It'll quicken the healing and have a small cup of ale before bed to help you relax if you need too. Go see Taena, my brown haired assistant over there, for some ointment to place on it."

The man bowed his head gracefully at her, dislodging his long inky locks, and smiled showing straight white teeth, "Thank you, my dear. It seemed to be forever while I waited here for help. My name is Pokk."

Maester Rayen's smile widened as whispers between the wounded started, "Well we can't have that, now can we? If you are feeling up to it, why not help me and my assistants," she gestured toward Cyrus, Iryna and Taena, "we can certainly use it. Perhaps you can go to the others and let me know if there are ones that need help quickly in this part of the hall."

Maester Keegan carefully frowned at this new woman. Who had the authority to take someone from him? He watched as she got up from crouching and dusted her hands. "Who was it that gave you permission to take her from me?"

Rayen's face frowned again as she glared at him, "No one 'gave' her to me. She isn't a thing to be had. No one is. But he did assign her to me, there is a difference." She got a thoughtful look on her face before turning to Iryna. "I never did get his name. What was it?"

Iryna held back the gap that came from deep inside her. This woman! She shook her head before saying, "It was Ser Davos, healer Rayen. The Lord's Advisor."

"Oh." Rayen looked back at Keegan before shrugging, "Well there you go, that's who. Now I'm a busy lady with patients to see." She turned on her heel and walked to the next unfocused patient.

Keegan's heart dropped to his feet. He had just disappointed someone associated with the Lord Snow! He could be asked to leave! As he muddled over the new revelations and the consequences there of, Pokk decided to wander through the amassed soldiers and picked out ones that he felt Cyrus should see too.

After all, Pokk was quite knowledgeable regarding battle tatics and how to quickly disable his opponents. It was what he was bred and raised for. He let a wicked smile carve his face. He knew this place would be fun.

* * *

AN: This chapter is a bit different from my other ones. I'm experimenting with a different formatting type to see which one works best! Let me know if you like my longer paragraphs or shorter ones and if you enjoyed seeing some of the chapter from other characters' points of view.

Thank you for your time! I hope you enjoyed it!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

 _Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it._

 _-Charles R. Swindoll_

Rayen scrubbed her face with a small towel and it felt so good to get off the grime. She had trouble believing her crazy day went from a car crash, to wherever this place _was_ , to stumbling into a war zone, and then to playing head nurse/doc/teacher all within a day. Well, two days perhaps as the moon was up in the sky. She let out a long puff and finished freshening up.

After her encounter with healer Keegan, she didn't run into many roadblocks nor were they nearly as irritating. The other healer and staff members were willing to listen after her confrontation with Keegan. The healer that came with the Knights, named Arin, was rather compliant and didn't argue with her when she asked him to wash his hands between each patient and whenever they were soiled. It's basic hygiene!

Despite that, Arin was the most skilled at setting bones between the three of them, so she had Cyrus assisting him as needed. The large swordsman was very useful in keeping the wounded still when Arin had set the bone in place. She really wished she had ear plugs, the _snap_ and the men's screams added new material for her nightmares.

Keegan continued to irritate her throughout the day and became a kiss up after he got over his initial shock. He still gave Iryna and Taena the cold shoulder and ignored their presence in the hall. Instead of asking the closest one for help, he kept grabbing Cyrus instead. He tried to lure Pokk into helping him, but the black haired man gracefully diverted each of his requests. He certainly had a talent for subtlety insulting the brown noser in the most hilarious ways.

Pokk was an interesting find, to say the least. He was rather helpful in identifying the seriously injured and would bring it to their attention. He paired well with Cyrus when he helped ready the soldiers with dislocated limbs and would entertain the concussed men with apparently comical tales, from the laugher she heard for a few hours. He walked around with an annoyingly perfect poise for such a tall lanky man, but was otherwise unobtrusive. He was rather charismatic in his own unique way.

Iryna and Taena took turns in gathering supplies, assisting her and resting at Rayen's insistence. Iryna immediately voiced her distaste of resting, as it could tarnish her reputation with the other servants since they were still working, and Taena nodded her head along by her side. They relented once Rayen explained that between the three women, each would need to be awake a few hours that night to check on the concussed men.

Rayen drew on a white chemise and plain blue outer gown that was supplied by Iryna's aunt, Baylee. Cyrus left when Baylee herself came to give Rayen the clothes. The head maid left a bitter taste in Rayen's mouth with her stiff stature and holier-than-thou attitude, but she tried to keep the snap judgement under control.

It was easy for Rayen to figure out that the Greenwood family had a tense relationship with each other. Iryna wasn't quick enough to hide the slight divot in her brow when the head maid was mentioned. Though, her assistant was able to collect herself before her aunt took notice. Once Cyrus and Baylee left, Iryna's eye kept twitching for a good five minutes.

Rayen was lucky that her makeshift team was able to treat most of the wounded soldiers. Though, like all things, there were some good men in the hall that they weren't able to save. Some from crushed organs caused by the bodies weight in those large death mounds and Rayen believed others had hemorrhaged in their skulls.

When something expanded in a confined space, like your skull, there is only so much room for it to go before the pressure causes it to explode, like a rockets used in fireworks. Eventually, the pressure would build up from the increasing amount of blood and the brain would be pushed through the small hole where the spine meets the skull. There isn't anything one could do once it happened; it's a sad and quick death sentence.

She wrapped the burns on her calves with some bandages from her bag and applied the burn ointment she got from Arin. She was surprised that her bag hadn't 'wandered off' in all the chaos of the day, but Taena found it next to their supply area. Rayen had known that she was going to irritate her wounds when she'd tend to the soldiers, but it was a price she was willing to pay to help them.

The ointment reminded her of the other prescription Arin gave her and she gagged at the thought of taking it. Just as the wounded men did, she had to drink burdock tea from the armies' medical supplies for its anti-infective properties. Rayen was _really_ reluctant to take it. She remembered the horrible taste from her lessons with Nan.

On the plus side of her day, besides living that is, was finding the redhead from the battlefield. She found him on Arin's side of the hall and was ecstatic to see him awake and grumpy. He had a good sized goose egg on his noggin, several open wounds and a few broken ribs. She was happy when she found out his name, Tormund, and that he was able to answer all of her questions correctly.

Even his grouching at her for stitching his wounds closed and binding his chest, didn't knock the smile off her face. He blatantly stated that he thought she was _insane_. She let out a laugh and told him to ask Davos about her later. After telling him that he needed to stay in the hall that night for observation, she mossied her way to the next patient.

Rayen hurried to tie her tennis shoes as she had the first shift of the night. The three women and Arin, he insisted, agreed that they each would take a three hour shift and wake a healer if needed. They planned to have Rayen take the first shift, Taena-second shift, Arin-third shift, and Iryna-last shift. This way everyone would be able to get some rest on the nearby bedrolls before the trials of the next day began.

Once she got to the medical hall, Rayen found Pokk asleep in a stuffed chair that certainly wasn't there earlier _,_ her two female assistants sleeping near the hearth, and a gaggle of soldiers sipping at their mugs around a bench. Some of the men seemed to be happily buzzed on the alcohol, while others were her concussed patients, which she distinctly told them to avoid it for now. She grinned when she saw that her redhead was there too!

Rayen debated whether or not she should intrude on the 'male bonding time', but shrugged her shoulders. ' _Might as well. I'll be getting to know a lot of them for the next few days,'_ she thought _._ The auburn haired woman grabbed a mug and filled it with water; she couldn't be inebriated while on the job. She picked up the hem to her gown with one hand, the standard length was long on her petite form, and sat at the short end of the table.

The men's conversation went abruptly silent, clearly waiting to see if she'll be leaving the table and let them have their merry way. She kept her eyes on them, sipped on her mug, and smiled sweetly. Her eyes were at odds with her bowed lips, they clearly dared the men to ask her to move.

* * *

Varn shrugged and continued to whittle away at his hunk of wood. He wasn't having any ale tonight and he wasn't going to step into a fight he was not likely to win, they did enough of that the day before. He saw her argue and _win_ against the Wildling leader, who was notoriously stubborn, when he said he didn't need any medical help nor those 'stitches' she placed on his arms.

Varn ignored his fellow men-at-arms to create the Mormont bear he was trying to pull from the tree limb. It was rather difficult with his constricted movement, so it was taking him longer than normal. He was nudged by his fellow Mormont, luckily when he wasn't whittling, and refocused on the conversation. The Reeds, Hornwoods and a few Knights of the Vale continued their conversation, too drunk on ale or relief to notice the tension between the two offending parties.

The crazy healer was staring at the Wildling leader, who continued to stare back. It was making the two sober men very uncomfortable, with the intensity that kept increasing with each passing moment. It reminded Varn of when he was a young boy and saw his first fight between two large predators that were eyeing the same piece of game.

He _really_ hoped it didn't end like that. Both creatures mauled each other and let the game pass by. Plus, he was reluctant to place himself in front of a berserk Wildling.

The Maester smiled widely before saying, "Like what you see, Red?"

Varn concluded that the woman had a death wish.

The Wildling, Tormund, kept his face blank and stared with his icy eyes. "Well you have the right assets, but missing a bit in the head aren't ya?"

The woman let out a loud laugh that was startlingly different from the demure women that Varn normally interacted with. "Maybe a smidge," she replied, "I'd have to be to deal with all this. I have a mini army of men to look after, after all."

Tormund slowly nodded his head, agreeing with her statement. Her knew from his own experience, that it wasn't easy to deal with men at their best, but injured men that were limited in their abilities, tended to do stupid things and extend their recovery time. Thus becoming more of an annoyance when he'd had to listen to them gripe. He could sympathize, to a degree, with her situation.

"So, what are we going to do to pass the time? Y'all are stuck with me for a few hours before we change shifts," she continued. "Stories are fun and all, but can be rather monotonous after a while."

The Wildling was quick to reply, trying to startle the woman, "We speak of our battles, relax before combat and fuck the willing women."

"Fair enough I suppose," she shot back with her smile remaining on her face, "You'll have to do better than that to rile me up. Plus if this is you flirting, you're not my type. Since we aren't doing one of those and the other is rather boring, what do y'all do to relax? Read books? Play games?"

Both Varn's and Hector's, his fellow Mormont, eyes continue to bounce back and forth as they watch the match unfold.

"Woman! You'd know if I was flirting with you!," Tormund's accent thickened as he raged. "We are too old to play games!"

"No one out grows a good game. There's poker, gin rummy, blackjack, chess, Cards Against Humanity, and Risk to name a few." She paused and cocked her head. "Of course three of those can be gambled over, so there's that."

The three men stared at her as she fiddled with her mug. Eventually she grew uncomfortable enough to blurt out, "Poker, gin, blackjack and Cards Against Humanity are all card games. The first three are typically used for gambling. Chess and Risk are games of strategy. Though, I think Risk is better since you can have more than two players."

Tormund smirked as she shifted in her seat. He greatly enjoyed seeing this woman off balanced. He hoped to continue when he asked, "Well, since you are so knowledgeable about them, why not set us up with one?"

Rayen gagged as her water slipped down the wrong pipe. She coughed and caught her breath before glaring at Tormund. "I don't know if I have any of the cards in my bag. Plus chess and Risk require a board."

Varn, Hector and Tormund each glanced at the empty table and back at her.

"Not like that! One that has details on it! Risk has an environment pictured on it and you build your army, attack or ally with your neighbors to rule the world. Chess has black and white pieces, one color per player, and each piece has a different movement or attack. The game's goal is to get to the other's King piece and kill it."

Varn and Hector share a look, they had heard of chess before, but never the other oddly named games.

"Oh! Wait! Give me a second. I might have a pack of cards in my bag from the last time stayed at work for a few days. We got snowed in and had to stay to help the patients!" She grinned and rushed towards her stash of supplies. "Be right back!"

Tormund frowned as he watched her move across the room. Varn started to finish the basic shape of his bear and Hector just drank is ale. They figured whatever she brought would be crazy.

They certainly knew it when she came rushing back, cackling, with a red and black box.

* * *

"Plus five cards Tormund!" Rayen said with glee as she slapped the card on the used stack.

The redhead growled as he picked up the extra five cards. Now he knew why she had him sit on her left. The minx!

Varn and Hector tried to keep their mirth to a minimum. It was hilarious to see Rayen working so hard to get Tormund to lose. Especially since his reply to the game's rules and her this-might-be-hard-the-first-time-you-play went along the lines of _I always win! No matter the game!_

Since then Rayen went out of her way to make Tormund lose. Was it petty? Probably. Was it worth seeing the frustration on his normally stoic face? _Absolutely._

A few more rounds followed with Hector showing his "Uno" thus winning and ending the game. They played two more hands, before Tormund had enough and Rayen couldn't control her laughter anymore.

"I'm sorry. I promise to stop. It gets better." She wiped away stray tears from her eyes. "Just don't automatically think you'll win the game, if you barely know the rules or never played it before."

Tormund huffed and placed his remaining nine cards next to her. Perhaps he shouldn't play any of her games in the future…

"Don't be like that! I bet you could do better than me at Risk!" She pouts as she gathers the cards to place them back into its box. "I always suck at that game."

That caught the trio's interest. Hector nudged Varn's arm and jerked his head towards the healer. Varn sighed and softly asked, "How does one play Risk?"

She brightened and eagerly went on to tell the rules of the game. She amended it a bit, since she didn't know if they had continents, such as Asia, Australia or the Americas to name a few, like the original Risk did. She changed it to kingdoms or large city-states, which was more common in less than modern times. "The only problem, other than the lack of a board, is the lack of pieces." She shrugged. "Like a tree for me, a bear for Varn, an axe for Tormund, and maybe a standing grizzle for Hector? Anyway, each player would have a different defining piece."

Tormund sipped on his water, he had to throw away his ale to get Rayen to stop nagging him, and thought over the game. It sounded interesting and it could be a good teaching tool for his men. He couldn't stop a small smile from slipping on his face. _Plus I can beat the nag at one of her own games._

"I'll talk with Davos in the morning and see if he has any maps we could use instead of your 'board'." He nodded curtly.

Varn and Hector looked at each other and the shaggy haired Varn shrugged. Hector nodded his head and Varn obliged, "We will make the pieces. They might be rough but we can have a set of five for each of us to use."

Rayen wilted in her seat. She had a feeling that she was going to regret introducing these men this particular game and that Tormund was going to kick her ass at it. A small hand shook her shoulder and she turned to find Taena behind her.

"It's time to switch," the brunette whispered softly. "Your bedroll is next to Iryna's and mine."

Rayen nodded and reached toward the ceiling to stretch out her aching back. She smiled at the three men and said, "Thank you for the lovely evening gentlemen. I'll leave the deck of cards with you if anyone wants to play again or share it with someone new. Have a good rest." She shot a glare towards Tormund, "And you lay off the ale for the rest of the night."

* * *

AN: I hope everyone got a laugh out of this chapter. It was honestly really fun to write. We are moving along, which should have Rayen meeting more main characters soon!

Let me know what you think!


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